


one night (and many nights after)

by houndhear



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blackmail, Cancer, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Gangs, Gun Violence, Lung Cancer, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houndhear/pseuds/houndhear
Summary: TESSA GRAY had never been one to stand out in a crowd. She preferred to sit quietly in the back row, buried in a pile of books. At least, that’s the way her life was going, until her brother was named CEO of Mortmain Industries. All of a sudden, her life was turned upside-down. Now she’s the center of attention wherever she goes, whether she likes it or not.JEM CARSTAIRS had come back from the brink of death. Diagnosed with stage III lung cancer at 15 years old, he doesn’t expect to live much longer. All he wants is to live life to the fullest and not let his disease define him—unfortunately, his parents have all but locked him away, only letting him out to further his father’s political career.WILL HERONDALE had no expectations. Born into poverty, he had to fight tooth and nail to get himself and his sisters out of the slums and into a house that was only slightly falling apart at the seams. Finally, something seems to be going right for his family… Until his past comes back to bite him, threatening to tear apart everything he had worked for.





	1. The Introduction

Tessa hesitated.

The front doors were wide open. A line of butlers stood at the ready; when another guest arrived, one rushed forth to open the car door and escort them inside, while a dozen stewards waited to take the guests’ coats. Golden light poured from the doors and stretched into the driveway, resting at the tips of Tessa’s heels. Her dress glittered and urged her to follow her brother and aunt, who were already on their way inside. The butler escorting them looked back at her in confusion, but said nothing, just motioned for another one to come help.

“Shall we go in, Miss Gray?” he said, arm extended.

But Tessa didn’t take it. The fact that complete strangers knew exactly who she was still made her uncomfortable, even after all these months. She supposed she would never get used to it—any of it. The fine dresses, the expensive houses, the opulent parties. It was all quickly becoming too much for her.

“Miss Gray?”

Tessa finally looked at the stranger. Just as she was about to respond, tell him that she couldn’t do it, flee the scene as fast as possible, Aunt Harriet seemed to have sensed the potential familial embarrassment.

“Theresa, we musn’t keep the Carstairs waiting,” her aunt called from the doorway. She was shrugging off her fur coat into the arms of a waiting steward.

She hated the name Theresa. In her old life, it was just a name for official papers and substitutes taking attendance. But anyone who knew her called her Tessa, save for her family, who called her Tessie. After her brother inherited the prestigious Mortmain Industries, and thus launched the Grays into high society, her aunt—and everyone else, for that matter—referred to her exclusively as Theresa. At least her brother didn’t change. Even though he was rarely at home nowadays, he still called her Tessie.

“Hurry now.”

Tessa followed her aunt’s orders.

The spacious Great Hall was decorated in white and gold. Tiger lilies bloomed along the walls underneath large red-and-blue “Carstairs for Office” posters, and a giant crystal chandelier hung above an excessive display of food and drink. The centerpiece of the edible decor, a 5-foot champagne tower, overflowed with golden bubbling liquid. Tessa’s dad used to call it liquid courage; she wondered if anyone would notice her sneak a glass.

The people were just as magnificent in their evening dresses and tuxedos, glittering with their own jewels. A sea of satin. None of them danced, just stood around laughing at something that could pass for a joke, before they migrated to different areas with different groups and practiced the exact same laugh. Again, Tessa found herself wondering—First about the party, and whether all campaign fundraisers were like this. Second if all the money they raised secretly went to these fundraisers, and where it would go if it didn’t. And third, about the people. Did any of them enjoy these events? Or were they equally as disappointed as Tessa was when she found out that high-society parties were nothing like those staged in her favorite period novels? None of the riotous energy from _The Great Gatsby_ , none of the hidden drama of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ , none of the community of _Pride and Prejudice_. It’s not like she expected some ghastly, otherworldly creature to show up within their locked doors and murder them all with a deadly disease, but it wouldn’t hurt. She thought that one of these days, she should throw a party of her own, a masquerade ball, where the safety of masks would allow her guests to behave for too brashly for their reputation to allow.

For now, Tessa should just focus on surviving the evening. Aunt Harriet dragged her around to every important person she could identify, and paid particular attention to those with sons who were about her age. She wasn’t sure if her aunt was trying to orchestrate the first arranged marriage in the state in over a century or not, but she wanted no part in any of it. She daydreamed in and out of conversation, mind dwelling on the balls she had read about and always wanted to attend, rather than the one she was currently attending. Too often, her aunt had to pull her out of a fantasy by lightly kicking her foot.

“Theresa, dear, they were just wondering whether you’d be interested in being part of Mortmain Industries?” her aunt explained. Her tone indicated that she was particularly motivated to impress them, which caught Tessa by surprise.

“Uh… No?” She glanced at her aunt, who was trying to smile her way through.

“You wouldn’t want to follow in your brother’s footsteps?” an older woman asked, more than a little confused. Tessa suspected that she was more the family-business type.

“I just mean, uh, that… That Mortmain Industries is like Nate’s baby. I don’t want to, you know, stifle him while everything is still—”she gestured vaguely with her hands“—growing.”

The woman seemed half-satisfied with that answer, and thankfully, she was soon called over to a different conversation.

Aunt Harriet, however, was none too thrilled about the interaction. She pulled Tessa in close and, keeping on a wide, inviting smile, hissed in her ear. “Do you even know who that was?”

“She’s… uh, you know, the—” Tessa tried to place her from the list of photos, names, and occupations that Aunt Harriet told her to study, but everything came up blank.

“That was Margaret Johnson. CFO of Mortmain Industries? Did you even read the guest list I gave you?”

She had. In fact, she obsessively researched all of them. She had a notebook stuffed to the brim with information on everyone here. After the last few disastrous events, she just wanted to blend in with the crowd, which meant knowing everybody who’s anybody. Unfortunately, there were just too many names, and she wasn’t allowed to bring her notes.

“Sorry, there’s just so many people, and I—”

“You need to get your act together. I don’t want you embarrassing yourself in front of Nathaniel’s associates.” Aunt Harriet sighed. “Have you at least familiarized yourself with the Carstairs?”

“Yes, of course. Jonah is running for governor and Wen Yu is a cardiologist. They vacation every summer in China, play golf on the weekends, and have their own box at the opera house.”

“Excellent. And their son?”

“James. He, uh…” Tessa trailed off. She didn’t know too much about him, only that he was diagnosed with cancer at 15 years old and was subsequently homeschooled. A homebody, he only went out with his parents or to speak about his experiences, which didn’t tell her much. She was going to watch one of his speeches, but she had too many people to memorize and ran out of time.

“He’s speaking tonight, right?” Tessa finished.

“Indeed he is,” said a booming voice behind her. A tall man was approaching them, suit pressed and hair gelled back so perfectly that he looked like a plastic doll. He smiled with blindingly white teeth. “Tonight’s the 6-month anniversary since he went into partial remission.”

Attached to his hip was a shorter woman, black hair pulled into a tight updo. Her dress was the most elegant one in the room, draped gold that flared out near her feet. She flashed the same impeccable smile; Tessa worried that she might go blind.

They were, of course, the infamous Carstairs.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Aunt Harriet exclaimed, nudging Tessa. She smiled politely.

“Yes, that’s such great news.”

The couple laughed like they were in an infomercial patio party. Mr. Carstairs picked up a couple glasses of champagne from a passing caterer’s tray and offered one to Aunt Harriet.

“Ms. Gray, it’s nice to see you again,” he said. “Who’s this young lady you’ve brought with you?”

Aunt Harriet lightly pushed Tessa forward. They took turns shaking hands with the Carstairs. “I’m Nathaniel’s sister, Theresa. Your house is beautiful.”

“Thank you, dear. Your dress is lovely,” Mrs. Carstairs said insincerely, as if she’d said the same thing to every woman in attendance.

“Speaking of, where is that boy anyway? I haven’t seen him all night,” Mr. Carstairs said.

“He’s around here somewhere,” Aunt Harriet replied. “You know Nathaniel—always busy, especially at these events.”

“Mhm. He does seem to have a penchant for schmoozing, doesn’t he?”

Aunt Harriet bristled beside Tessa, but wore her smile with vigor. “I haven’t seen your son around either. Where could he have gone off to?”

“Big events like these tend to wear him out,” Mrs. Carstairs answered easily. “Jian prefers to rest until he delivers his speech, so then he can more readily converse with our guests.”

“Of course,” Aunt Harriet said. “We’ll be sure to find him afterwards. As I recall, he’s about Theresa’s age. I’m certain they’d get along well.”

“Absolutely,” Mrs Carstairs smiled. Then she focused her attention on Tessa. “I’ll be sure to introduce you two.”

“That would be very kind of you, thank you,” Tessa replied, but internally rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was to be set up with an entitled rich kid. Cancer or not, he came from a long line of entitled rich kids, and thus probably got everything he’d ever wanted and never learned the word “no”. If James was anything like his parents—and considering that he spent almost 100% of his time with them, he most certainly will be—Tessa knew that any conversation they’d have would be stilted and superficial.

“It was wonderful catching up,” Mr. Carstairs said. “And to meet you, Theresa.”

“Likewise,” Aunt Harriet said. The couple sauntered off, leaving Tessa and Aunt Harriet alone once more.

But not for long.

A line of people were following the Carstairs like a herd of lost puppies, striking up conversation with everyone the hosts had deemed important enough to talk to. Unfortunately, that means Tessa was next on their hit list. She tried to remember all their names, but ultimately decided that it was best to let everyone else do all the talking, only interjecting with a few short answers to simple questions. Anything regarding Mortmain Industries was handled by Aunt Harriet, which was fine by her. Every interaction went the exact same way, to the point where they all blurred together and Tessa was in danger of zoning out again. As soon as there was a lull in strangers approaching them, she looked for a way to escape.

There was her saving grace: A tall, blond head thrown back in laughter.

“Aunt Harriet, there’s Nate!” Tessa pointed him out. “You join him. I’m going to get some crab rangoon; I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Very well. Just be careful of your dress.”

With that, Tessa was off. She started for the hors d'oeuvres table, but quickly veered off towards a side door that was, luckily, unlocked.

The hallway was dim and gloomy, illuminated only by the distant streetlamps streaming through the tall windows. It had started snowing since she had arrived at the party; snowflakes gathered on the windowsill, and frost had begun to snake up the glass. High ceilings chilled the air and sent even the tiniest sounds reverberating, but an ornate rug muffled her heels. The sounds of the party dulled as she crept down the hallway, pausing every once in a while to observe the various portraits hanging on the walls. Carstairs family members going back who knows how many generations. Tessa could feel their eyes on her when she walked past.

Soft music echoed from the end of the hall. A violin, slow and steady and somber.

Amid all of the other closed doors, one was cracked open. Tessa peered through to find a music room with all the lights off and one person standing in the center. A young man in a suit had a violin tucked under his chin. His face was turned away, but moonlight glinted off his silver hair and made the rest of the orderly room glow.

She listened until he finishes the song, and then she stepped inside.

“That was beautiful,” she said.

He spun around, and Tessa was taken aback. _He_ was beautiful, far more so than the song. Tall and lean, with a finely-angled face and delicate hands. His features were cast in shadow, but somehow his curved, dark eyes glowed in the low light, brimming with kindness.

“Thank you,” he smiled, sweet and genuine. He sat down and motioned for her to join him. “I’m assuming you’re not a fan of parties?”

Tessa took a nearby seat, carefully smoothing her dress so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “Not really, no.”

“Me neither. But”—he gestures to his violin—“I’m the entertainment for tonight.” A hint of pained humor flashed in his eyes as he says it, almost like it was some kind of cruel joke.

“I can see why they hired you. You’re very good.”

“Thanks. I don’t particularly like the piece, but it’s what they want me to play.”

“It was kind of sad for a party,” she agreed. “What would you have chosen?”

He thought for a moment, as if he’d never even considered the question before. Tessa took the opportunity to look at him carefully; the more she studied him, the more familiar he seemed to her. She must have seen him perform at some other party somewhere else—only she was certain that she’d remember someone so handsome, especially with such strange silver hair.

“Amy Beach’s Violin Sonata,” he answered finally. “Or maybe… Something I wrote myself.”

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful composer,” Tessa said.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Playing someone else’s music is very different from making your own.”

“That’s true. I guess the only way to know is for you to show me what you’ve got.”

Color flushed his tanned skin as he looked at the ground. “I, uh… I’ve never shown anybody before.”

“No time like the present,” Tessa encouraged. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“Maybe.” He looked her up and down, then held out a hand. “My name’s Jem, by the way.”

“Theresa—but I usually go by Tessa.”

He cocked his head to the side, intrigued. “I know who you are. Nathaniel Gray’s sister, right?”

“That’s me.” Tessa felt her face involuntarily fall. Nathaniel Gray’s sister. That’s all she is, even to this stranger. She should probably introduce him to her brother so she doesn’t have to face any more questions that she didn’t have the answer to. It was a shame; for the first time tonight, she was actually enjoying herself.

A grandfather clock in the room chimed nine o’clock. Jem sighed and placed his violin in a nearby case.

“That’s my cue,” he said, shoulders drooping. He turned to face Tessa. “Well, Tessa, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

She perked up—he used her name. Maybe there was some hope after all. “You too. Would I be able to catch you after your performance?”

He smiled, but this time, it was full of that strained humor from earlier. Tessa wondered for a moment if she should press him, but dismissed the thought: they _had_ only just met.

“Maybe,” he replied. “After all, I still have to play for you.”

* * *

When Tessa returned to the ballroom, nobody paid her any attention. All eyes were at the top of the staircase, where Mr. Carstairs had already begun his speech.

“...And I could not do this without the incredible support from my team, as well as everyone present tonight. I applaud you, all of you, and thank you for donating to my campaign fund. It is only through your support that I am able to run for governor, and, hopefully, win. Because I’m not here to make empty promises about how _I_ can right the wrongs of our state. I know full well that no one man has such power. True change is only possible through teamwork, through collaboration, through the people. It takes a village to raise a child. I do not wish to stand in the way of people who know far better than I what it will take to repair what’s broken. People like you, who may have more experience in the fields of finance, technology, history, or science. Everyone has their specialty. And I believe that my specialty is to build a community of people who trust each other, who help each other, and who learn from each other. I will not stand in the way of progress—I will do everything in my power to keep the wheels of progress churning.

“Part of my plan to progress this state is to fund our universities, who, thanks to the people’s support of my campaign a few years ago, have made groundbreaking strides, particularly in cancer research.

“Three years ago, my son was diagnosed with stage 3a non-small cell lung cancer. He was just fifteen. And I know it doesn’t sound like it, but we were luckier than most—lucky that we caught it early, lucky that he was so healthy and strong, lucky that we have access to the best facilities in the state. Only 14% of people with his disease are alive 5 years after diagnosis. It is my duty, as both a father and your governor, to raise this statistic. Because there is no doubt in my mind that cancer has, in some way, touched all of your lives. Cancer is the second leading cause of death in the United States, and one in 285 children will be diagnosed with cancer before their 20th birthday. One in 285 families will receive the worst news I can imagine. One in 285 parents will have to face the unthinkable. And not all of them will have the resources, or perhaps the resources just aren’t good enough. That’s why I have made it my mission, through your support, to fund as best I can the universities and hospitals who are fighting this disease. Because without them, my son would not be here tonight, sharing with all of you his wonderful talents.”

With that, Jonah Carstairs stepped aside, leading the applause for the boy to come on stage, violin in hand. He turned to face the audience, and Tessa could not believe her eyes.

Standing before her, playing that same sickly sorrow melody, was Jem. He had black hair, now, that was cut neatly to stay out of his eyes, even though he had closed his eyes for the performance. But it was the same beauty that had stunned her in the music room only minutes before.

She felt like a fool for not realizing it earlier.

Then again, she had not expected someone so… lively. He wasn’t loud by any stretch of the imagination, but he carried himself with such vigor, and he had such infectious good humor in his voice, that she could hardly imagine him sick in a hospital bed. He was skinny, however, and Tessa supposed that she shouldn’t have such a stereotype in her mind anyway, even if he hardly showed his face in public. It was more than that, though—in her short time among the upper class, she had come to realize that children raised in this life rarely grow into well-adjusted teenagers, much less the authentic, kind man that she made Jem out to be.

But that was the key, wasn’t it? He introduced himself as Jem, not James or Jian or whatever his parents called him. A name all his own, just like Tessa. Perhaps she was too quick to judge the Carstairs boy.

He finished the song on a long, low note. The room erupted in applause. Jem gave a polite smile and a small bow to the crowd, but when he came back up, his eyes were on Tessa, as if to say _Still want me to play for you?_

She nodded, offering up her own golf clap in approval.

Jonah Carstairs took center stage once again. “Again, thank you all for your support this evening. Now, I believe I’ve taken up enough of your time. Go enjoy yourselves!”

Immediately, the crowd swarmed Jem and his violin, spewing a tidal wave of chatter. Their chatter was almost indiscernible, with questions layering over each other and comments bleeding together; the only constant was the word “cancer”. Tessa could hardly stand it, and she was standing on the fringes, nowhere near the center.

Then Tessa saw his face.

It was a simple flash in the crowd, momentarily visible between strangers’ heads, and then he was gone again. From the outside, he seemed fine: a polite smile, a good-natured chuckle. Yet that smile didn’t reach his eyes, which remained blank and lifeless. The kind of eyes one would expect on a cancer patient, and so very incongruent with everything she had learned about him in the past hour. Suddenly, Tessa understood exactly what he meant by “entertainment.”

She didn’t know what, but she knew she had to do something.

The mob was like a wall of bodies and expensive fabric; the more she tried to push her way through, the more they pushed back. She briefly considered crawling between people’s legs, but with such long dresses in the way, it would just slow her down. The only way through was to be more aggressive than everyone else, an area that Tessa didn’t exactly excel in.

She took a deep breath and dove in, elbows first. A bird-like woman with a hooked nose scowled at her, but it was working. She squeezed and wove and pushed until she was close enough to the center.

Jem caught her eye. She feigned a cough and nodded toward the door. His smile brightened, before he doubled over in his own coughing fit.

It worked. People immediately backed away, giving him some air. Tessa turned and made her way back through the crowd, which was now frozen in silence. Now, she just had to hope that she could find him again in this giant house. Perhaps she could try the music room again. She had just made it out of the crowd when a large man knocked into her, her heels caught on her dress, and she fell.

Pain shot through her hands and up her arms, and something—it felt like a table—was pressing into her torso. Dripping wet, freezing, and suddenly confused about the glittering mess in front of her, she didn’t even hear the sound of crashing glass.

The room was quiet for the first time that evening.

Someone pulled her up. Her arms stung, like a swarm of bees had stabbed their stingers into her arms. She was afraid that if she moved them, the bees would pull out and she would be in a whirlwind of pain.

She looked back at the table where the champagne tower once stood. Red mixed with gold and dripped off the table, the whole thing glimmering like a disco ball.

“Tessie!”

The stranger handed her off to Nate and Aunt Harriet. He moved to hug her, but saw her arms and retreated. Aunt Harriet held her by her shoulders.

“It’s okay, you're okay. Just come with me, we’ll get you cleaned up,” she said in a soothing voice, like she was reading a bedtime story. They guided her towards a back room, with Jem and Mrs. Carstairs leading the way.

Behind her, Mr. Carstairs’ voice rose above the concerned whispers. “I believe that concludes my event tonight. We’ll get Miss Gray the medical attention she needs, don’t worry. I thank you all for coming, and on your way out, make sure to avoid…“

His voice faded in the distance. A series of hallways and a descent down a stairwell, and Tessa was in a simple bathroom—certainly not one that any guests should ever be allowed to see. It was just big enough for the five of them to stand comfortably.

“Don’t worry, hon, the paramedics are on their way,” Mrs. Carstairs said, grabbing a towel and wetting it in the sink.

“Are you all right?” Jem asked. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are _you_ , Jian?” Her attention had abandoned Tessa entirely and zeroed in on him. “You were coughing earlier. Maybe you should—”

“I’m fine, mother. It just got a little crowded, that’s all.”

“You should still go lie down. I’ll take care of this.” Her tone, while compassionate, left no room for argument. Jem opened his mouth to say something else, but quickly closed it. One last sympathetic look towards Tessa, and he was gone.

Mrs. Carstairs began delicately dabbing at her arms with the damp towel. She managed to avoid all the cuts, and once all of the excess blood was gone, it didn’t look as bad as it felt.

“There, all better. Almost,” she said, throwing the stained towel to the side.

“I’m sorry about your towel,” Tessa started, and then the floodgates opened. She hadn’t cried at all until this moment. “And your table. And your floors, and your party, and your—”

“No, Tessie,” Nate spoke up. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“All that matters is that you’re safe,” Aunt Harriet agreed.

The bathroom door opened, and in walked Mr. Carstairs walked in, somehow even stiffer than he was earlier that evening.

“That was quite an end to the evening,” he said, though there was no humor in his voice.

“I’m sorry—” Tessa began again, but he cut her off.

“Don’t worry about it. It was my fault for inviting you in the first place.”

“Excuse me?” Nate said, approaching Mr. Carstairs. A bad feeling stirred in Tessa’s gut. In her mind, she saw a shark with a wicked grin, baiting a cat into the water with a smaller fish. Mrs. Carstairs seemed to have a similar feeling; she lowered her head and mumbled something about waiting for the paramedics.

“It’s no secret, Nathaniel, that the Grays have a notorious reputation for, ah… Causing a scene at whatever party they attend,” Mr. Carstairs continued easily.

Red burned through Nate’s face, though his voice remained steady. “Is that so? Then why invite us to such an important event?”

“Good faith, of course. It must be difficult for you, knowing how to behave among a higher caliber of people, since you’re so new at this—”

“Cut the bullshit, Jonah.” Nate was in the other man’s face now, fists balled. “You’ve had it out for me since I took over Mortmain Industries.”

Mr. Carstairs did not flinch. “I just don’t see how such a young, inexperienced nobody would be named Mortmain’s successor, especially since he had only known you for a few months until his death.”

“What the hell do you know about business?” Nate snarled. “Or do you think you’re an expert, just because you and Mortmain—”

Just then, Mrs. Carstairs returned with a pair of paramedics at her side. They separated the two men, Mr. Carstairs pale and Nate huffing, and began attending to Tessa.

As all three Grays were escorted out, Mr. Carstairs called out to them. “Consider this your final warning, Nathaniel. You and your family ought to stay away from mine. I won’t be humiliated again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, that was the first chapter. i didn't edit it at all and i don't plan on editing at any point in the future. i wrote this purely for my own nefarious reasons, and you can read it if you want, but don't expect anything good out of it lol


	2. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tessa meets her headache for the rest of the semester, and Jessamine solves Tessa's problems with a scheme so ridiculous, it just might work.

Tessa only had to get a couple of stitches. The ER doctor removed the glass shards from her arm with relative ease, and she was in bed by 1 AM. Aunt Harriet had a fit that she would finish out her senior year of high school with scars, but there wasn’t much that could be done about that. Mostly, she just wanted to apologize to Mr. Carstairs for the whole affair.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nate said at breakfast the next morning, in an attempt to calm her down. “The Carstairs are bad news. It’s best that we keep our families separate.”

Tessa didn’t want to argue, but she knew he was wrong. Businessmen and politicians have always worked together, for better or worse. The Grays needed the Carstairs to help them with any government restrictions, and the Carstairs needed the Grays to support their campaign. Whether they liked it or not, their relationship was a symbiotic one—Tessa could only hope for mutualism, rather than parasitism.

There was one other reason Tessa didn’t want to stay away from the Carstairs. A beautiful, silver-haired reason with a song screaming to be heard. A reason that she would never admit to anyone, and now, thanks to her clumsiness, a reason she would probably never see again.

“Nathaniel’s right, as always,” Aunt Harriet agreed. “No use harping on it. Why don’t you go prepare for the new semester?”

Tessa sighed, but did not protest any further. One more semester of upper class torture, and then she can ship herself off into the land of the normal. She had already been accepted into Columbia University’s English program and arranged to move into her dorm early. Goodbye boring events and snobby elite, hello analyzing literature and opinionated new friends. All she had to do was finish the year strong, which wouldn’t be a problem. Straight A’s in AP Literature, AP Chemistry, World History, French, Calculus, and Creative Writing. A study hall to work on homework and relax. The only thing that worried her was her Psychology class, which would start this semester.

She excused herself from the breakfast table and disappeared into her room. The teacher had posted the syllabus online, and Tessa read through it one more time. Listed in bold was what the class was infamous for: The partner research project. Those who had taken the course thought it to be a psychology experiment on the students, rather than an assignment for them. Grades ruined, friendships destroyed, reputations shredded. A “Beware” sign hung on the door to the classroom.

Tessa believed she could make it through the class and save her GPA. As long as she got a good partner, she would be okay.

* * *

“Theresa!” A familiar voice rose above the rest of the hallway chatter. Tessa finished unpacking her books into her locker, grabbed her lunch bag, and came face to face with brown eyes and a head of blonde curls.

Despite being in the same class since elementary school, Jessamine Lovelace and Tessa had never had a proper conversation; that is, until the Grays ascended into the realm of the social elite. Her first day back at school after Nate’s promotion, she was offered a space at Jessamine’s lunch table. Tessa had always thought of her as shallow, and such an offer had only reinforced that sentiment. However, Jessamine was persistent enough, and helpful enough with those big fancy parties, that Tessa stuck around her. Then, the more she got to know her, she actually found herself enjoying her company. In fact, they were planning on rooming together at Columbia.

Jessamine looped her arm through Tessa’s as they walked to the cafeteria, like women did in those old movies. “Tell me _everything_ that happened at the Carstairs’ campaign party,” she said, eyes ablaze. She had been looking forward to the event for weeks, but her ambassador parents wanted her at an important conference in London.

“Big house, pretty dresses. Same old thing,” Tessa replied without thinking.

Jessamine stopped her in her tracks, eyebrow raised. “Really?” she asked, suspicious. She held up one of Tessa’s stitched hands. “Because I heard it was quite an eventful evening, for you in particular.”

Tessa sighed and pressed onward to the lunchroom. “Fine. I fell into a champagne tower and got my family banned from the Carstairs household indefinitely.”

“Oh. My. God,” Jessamine punctuated. She must have already known the information, like she always does, but she was still invested. That’s one of the things Tessa liked about her: no matter how many times she’d heard a story or a piece of gossip, she was just as excited as the first time. She made everyone feel like they had a story to tell, and an important one at that. “Start from the beginning.”

So, Tessa did. Entering the house that may very well have been a castle, her series of blunders, accidentally stumbling into the Carstairs’ son, her fight with the glass, and finally the exchange between Mr. Carstairs and her brother.

Jessamine hung onto her every word. By the time Tessa was finished, they had both eaten their lunches.

“So, yeah. Now I have 9 stitches and no clue how to fix this mess,” Tessa said.

Jessamine rolled her eyes. “You really should have told me all this earlier.”

“You know what I should do?” Tessa asked, incredulous.

“Of course. I’m basically an ambassador, you know. Let me think about it; I’ll have a solution at the end of the day.”

“Thank you!” Tessa exclaimed, relieved. If anyone could solve rich people drama, it was Jessamine.

The girls threw away their trash and headed back to their seats. 15 minutes until the next period started.

“So…” Jessamine began, her expression deadly serious. “You actually met James? What was he like? Is he cute?”

Tessa sputtered, feeling the heat rise to her face. “Uh, sure I guess.”

“You guess? From the way you went on about him, I’d think he’s a little hotter than _‘you guess’_.”

Now Tessa was really blushing. “I wasn’t— I— He just… Wasn’t what I was expecting,” she finally managed to spit out.

“Mhm.” A smirk spread across her face. “Certainly. I can’t blame you, though. I’ve seen pictures of him, and he is surprisingly hot now.”

Tessa stared furiously at the table, willing the color to drain from her face. Unfortunately, Jessamine wasn’t making it easy.

“You’re just lucky that he was my friend in elementary school—too much weird history. Otherwise, I would definitely go for him, and you’d have no chance. But as it stands, I could help you clean up a bit. Attract men instead of repel them,” she teased.

“Can we change the subject please?” Tessa asked, her voice strained. Sure, Jem was attractive, but she hadn’t even considered a relationship. For starters, she was about to go off to college in a different state. Furthermore, they were from two entirely different worlds.

Then again, he had been rather sweet and down-to-earth…

“Very well,” Jessamine sighed, then perked back up as a new subject came to mind. “Have you seen the new kid?”

Tessa shook her head. She vaguely remembered Jessamine telling her about him before winter break, but that was a long time ago, and she had other things on her mind.

“Oh my god, Theresa, he is so _hot_. He’s in my PE class, and he was just… Ugh! He has tattoos, can you believe that? It’s too bad he’s poor, or I’d be all over him. Actually, you know what? I’m honestly considering…”

Jessamine droned on and on about the mysterious new boy who just might convince her to date below her level. But Tessa couldn’t even imagine going out with someone who couldn’t be bothered to talk to anyone else in the class. Except for the teacher, but apparently it counted more as _talking back_ than _talking to_ , and it had landed him in the principal’s office on his first day.

The bell rang, relieving Tessa from hearing any more about this boy who clearly thought he was the next _Rebel Without a Cause_.

Unfortunately, her nightmare came sauntering into her 5th period class, 20 minutes late with a brown paper sack in hand.

“Mr. Herondale, I presume?” her Psychology teacher asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he smirked. “And no need for formalities; just Will is fine.”

Jessamine was right; he was attractive. Soft black hair hung into electrifyingly blue eyes. His chiseled jaw was slightly crooked, as was his nose, and a gray tank top stretched across an equally chiseled physique. Pink and yellow blossoms poked out from underneath his shirt collar, seemingly situated over his heart. On one hand, the simple black outline of an eye stared out, with three dots arranged in a triangle replacing the pupil, and a wreath of drooping flowers encircled the picture. On his other hand was another eye, except a knife was stabbed through the center, and a teardrop leaked out of its corner.

Tessa didn't want to imagine what other images plagued his body.

“Well then, Will, why don’t you have a seat up in front with me?” the teacher said, gesturing to the empty space right next to Tessa. She gulped.

This was going to be a long four and a half months.

Will plopped down in the plastic chair at Tessa’s table, shrugging off his worn leather jacket. More black tattoos covered his arms, most of them strange black symbols that Tessa didn’t recognize and didn’t want to recognize. The teacher resumed her lesson, but instead of paying attention, Will opened up his brown sack and started eating. He didn’t even bring a backpack.

The bell rang; as Tessa was packing up her notes, she could feel his eyes on her. She tried to ignore him, but then he opened his mouth.

“You got all that, right? ‘Cause one of us is gonna have to ace these tests for the both of us, and it’s not gonna be me,” he said.

She internally groaned. As if she was going to let this guy cheat off of her. But she knew better than to show her irritation outright. “I’d loan you some chapstick, but the tests are short-answer, not scantron,” she replied, standing up. He rose as well, standing about an inch taller than her.

“Yeah, I tried that once. Didn’t work.”

“Strange. You don’t seem like the type to show up for a test at all.”

“Nailed me,” he chuckled, then leaned in closer. Their eyes locked, but she refused to back down. “But maybe I would, if more pretty girls like you took them with me.”

Tessa scowled. She held absolutely no interest in people like him, who superficially flirt with just about any girl they could find. “Right. Good luck with that.”

She breezed past him as the next round of students began to file into the classroom. If Will made her late to her next class, she was going to have some _serious_ words with herself about assertiveness.

Right as the last bell of the day rang, she got a text.

Jessie  
 _Meet me by the rock_

By rock, she meant the giant stone in the front yard of the school, right in the corner to impose upon any traffic to walk past it. Tessa had no idea why a school would go to the expensive trouble of attaching a bronze placard with the school's name on a giant rock, but every building in the district had one. Her phone buzzed again.

Jessie  
 _I'm a genius btw_

Tessa laughed, then packed up her belongings. She was the last one out of the class, as per usual, and was caught in the backlog of hundreds of students trying to squeeze their way out of a few small doors. When she finally made it outside, Jessamine had long since been waiting for her.

“Finally!” she exclaimed, leaning against the rock. A chunk of snow slid off the stone, but her puffy winter coat deflected it. “I’ve been sitting on this _all day_ , just so I can see the look on your face.”

“This better be good,” Tessa replied.

“Oh,” she smirked. “It is. And so simple too. You and James fall in love.”

Tessa’s jaw went slack, and she sputtered something along the lines of “No way.”

“Come on, it’s perfect! You’re families _can’t_ be rivals if they’re too busy planning your wedding.”

“I—I’m not getting married!”

“Well, obviously not. But, with you two going steady, they’ll have to be civilized with each other!”

Tessa groaned, rolling her eyes. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Hey!” Jessamine scoffed. Her arms crossed over her chest. "It's brilliant!"

“Sorry, I just don’t think taking advice from your Shakespeare unit is the best idea.”

“Well, it’s not like your families are murderers to begin with. And I’m pretty sure neither of you have any plans to actually fall in love, or kill yourselves, anytime soon. Just go out for a while, force your families on the same side, then have an amicable break up before you leave for college.”

Tessa slid down the side of the rock, cringing a little as she plopped down in the snow. Luckily, her coat was long enough to act as a cushion. The other students have mostly fled the campus by now, rushing to get to practice or home or anywhere but here. A few stragglers chatted by the front doors, but for the most part, the traffic had cleared. All that remained was a torrent of footprints in dirty, melting snow.

Was she actually considering Jessamine’s plan? It was ridiculous, sure, but she didn’t have any better ideas. She was the one who upset the tense acquaintanceship, and despite how ridiculous their weird feud seemed, she felt the need to fix it. Sometimes her brother didn’t really think through his grudges, especially when it came to protecting his family. It wasn’t that bad of a plan; in fact, it was a pretty good one. The Grays could see that the Carstairs weren’t really all that bad (she hoped they weren’t), the Carstairs could see that the Grays weren’t naive and useless, and she could get to know Jem.

Not that that mattered, of course. But after their connection at the party, she half-hoped that they could see each other more often, maybe even become friends.

"Alright," she finally groaned. "You have a point."

Jessamine smiled. "See? I'm always right."

"I wouldn't go that far."

In response, Jessamine scoffed in mock outrage, then promptly crossed her arms and turned her back on her friend.

"Fine, have it your way," she said. "I won't help you."

A thought struck Tessa so suddenly, one so vital to the plan that she couldn't believe it had taken so long to come up, that she abandoned any effort to continue their banter.

"Would Jem—I mean, James—even agree to this?" Tessa voiced aloud, mentally smacking herself. There was no way; for one thing, he seemed like a sane human being, and this plan was anything but. Second, nobody would want to be seen in public with Tessa after the campaign fundraiser fiasco, let alone all the other social disasters she'd caused. And finally, she knew almost nothing about him. Sure, they connected at the party, but that was a far cry from asking someone to pretend to date.

Jessamine hummed in thought for a moment, then broke out in another pearly-white grin. "If he's anything like he was back when we were kids," she started, then knelt down so she was at Tessa's level. "Trust me, he'll be down."

* * *

Tessa sat on the edge of her bed, hands wringing around her phone. She flicked it on every couple of seconds, checking for new messages, but there were none. Every so often, she'd hear a phantom buzz and nearly fall to the floor; the waiting was going to drive her insane.

Finally, after what felt like hours, her phone buzzed for real.

Jem  
 _Am I at the right window?_

Tessa scrambled to open her curtain and, sure enough, standing on the lawn just below her bedroom window, was Jem. Bathed in moonlight, his skin practically glowed, and his silver hair shone as bright as any star. She had half a mind to chastise him for wearing such a beacon of light for a stealth operation; however, he looked straight up at her and flashed a brilliant smile, and she lost her train of thought.

She turned quickly from the window, face heating up. The reality of the situation was only now just hitting her—she was going to sneak out, in the middle of the night, with a boy. Aunt Harriet would have a heart attack if she ever found out.

But she wouldn't. Tessa had made sure her family was sound asleep before even texting Jem. Quickly, she pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks to cool them before returning to the window and unlatching it.

Jem stood there, waiting patiently for her descent. A trail of boot marks from the woods at the edge of the yard interrupted the fresh snow, and Tessa made a mental note to cover their tracks later. For now, her task was to climb down the water pipe by her window and sneak off with the boy waving cheerily from its base.

Which, now that she was looking at the pipe, was a lot easier said than done. Tessa was not a coward by any stretch of the imagination. The two-story drop from the window to the ground did not intimidate her; she had run the risks and figured that, worst-case scenario, a broken leg wouldn't be that bad. Nothing she hadn't dealt with before. What concerned her most was that the broken leg was definitely going to be the outcome, as she was nowhere near athletic enough to perform a stunt like this.

She reached a hand out and grabbed the pipe, which felt much too slippery in her weak grasp. As much as she loved to read about daring stunts and imagine herself in the hero's place, it all stayed in her head, right where it belonged. No way was she going to put down a book to hit the gym.

She retreated, pulling out her phone to type a quick explanation to Jem, when she heard rustling from below.

As if he had read her mind, Jem had begun to ascend the pipe. Hands grappling the metal, feet pressed against the side of the house, he heaved himself up inch by inch. Clouds of breath escaped his mouth from the effort, heavy and rapid. The pipe wavered a bit, but held firm. Eventually, he found a foothold on the pipe that put him about level with the window and paused, breathing hard.

"Very impressive," Tessa said in a low voice, so as not to wake her family. "And here I thought climbing a pipe would be difficult."

Jem caught her eye and grinned, face flushed. "I'll admit, that was a lot harder than it looked."

"Need a hand getting inside?"

He nodded his assent, and Tessa grabbed hold of his arm. Without warning, he flung himself towards her, and she let out a small yelp of surprise before she tightened her grip and hauled him through the window.

Unfortunately, she lost her footing and fell backwards onto the floor.

Tessa blinked, staring up at the face alarmingly close to her own, unable to move. Jem stared back, inky black eyes wide with shock. He was on his hands and knees above her, their bodies almost touching, pinning her to the ground. She only had a few seconds to take in his feather-light weight pressing against her, the sweat beaded across his forehead, the unmistakable blush sweeping his face, before he shot away from her, coughing and sputtering apologies.

Tessa sat up too, trying to ignore the way her heart hammered in her chest, and _especially_ trying to ignore the thoughts that had flashed through her mind just moments before.

"Sorry about that," he said, bringing her back to the present. "I, uh, didn't mean to…"

"It's fine!" Tessa responded way too quickly. At least she could blame her own flushed cheeks on the exertion.

"And, you know, now that I think about it, barging into a girl's bedroom in the middle of the night isn't exactly, uh… Gentleman-y."

A sheepish grimace overtook his expression, and Tessa couldn't help but laugh. Of course her plan was already going awry.

"Really, it's all good. Besides, I was the one who asked you to come."

"I guess you're right. How is Jessamine, by the way?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested. Although they hadn't seen each other in a while (outside of social events, of course), they still texted every now and then, Jessamine had explained. She was the one who gave Tessa his number, and vice versa.

"She's good. Excited about going to college," Tessa answered. He visibly relaxed hearing about his old friend, the awkwardness of earlier dissipating.

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah. Actually, this whole thing was her idea in the first place."

He chuckled a little at that. "She mentioned her brilliant plan, but wouldn't tell me what it was."

Tessa gulped; that part was up to her. She had thought explaining it in person would be easier, but now, sitting on the floor of her bedroom with a boy she met two days ago, she was beginning to regret it.

But, he was here, and there was no turning back now. So, she took a deep breath, and tried to think of a phrasing that wouldn't make her sound crazy.

"Yeah, so, um… You hate having our families fight, right? Like it makes no sense and will only hurt them both the longer it goes on?"

Jem nodded, his finely-shaped eyebrows drawn in thought. He didn't say anything, though, simply waiting for her to make her pitch.

"And, well," she continued, "I sorta feel like it's my fault. Not totally, but I definitely made it worse. So I've been trying to think of a way to fix it, and I asked Jessamine, and she thought that…"

She trailed off, taking a deep breath and holding his gaze. If this was going to work, she had to sell it with confidence.

"She thought that if we dated, our families would be forced to get along."

If Jen were startled by this strange request, he didn't show it. In fact, he remained almost too still. She held the silence as long as she could, waiting to hear his thoughts, but she couldn't stand it.

"Not, like, actually dating," she clarified. "Just fake it so our families think we are. Obviously, if you don't want to, I understand. It's a little extreme. But I can't think of a better way, and… Desperate times call for desperate measures?"

Her voice rose at the end in questioning. Again, the silence stretched out between them. Tessa held his gaze firm, though it seemed he wasn't looking at her, simply stating at a fixed point in thought. This time, she was determined to wait it out. She made her case; the cards were in his hands now.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait too long. Jem shook his head, and a small smile graced his lips. And though he maintained his polite, cordial manner, his dark eyes sparkled with roguish delight, betraying his composure. Tessa got the notion that this wasn't his first mischievous plot.

"Let's do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer to come out than I thought it would. So it goes. But I'm determined to finish this, no matter how off the rails bad and/or lazy my writing gets cause you know what? We aren't quitters in this household


End file.
